


i didn't know where else to go

by jasonsmclean



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, spider-man!jason, villain!piper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24982585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasonsmclean/pseuds/jasonsmclean
Summary: Through the pouring rain, Jason can see a ripped jumpsuit, soaking wet dark hair, and blood. As he’s gaping, the person’s head tilts up and when they make eye contact, the familiarity of the brown eyes hits Jason like a train.“I didn’t know where else to go,” is her weak croak.Spider-Man!Jason and Villain!Piper AU
Relationships: Jason Grace/Piper McLean
Comments: 10
Kudos: 98
Collections: PJO/HOO Big Bang 2020





	i didn't know where else to go

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this one-shot is apart of the pjo/hoo big bang 2020! it was so much fun to participate in so please check out the collection of which this fic is apart of to read all the amazing fics/one-shots everyone else wrote. 
> 
> this would not be possible without my amazing betas, @shelbychild and @lrfe on tumblr. if you want to see the artwork for this one-shot, please go check out the wonderful pieces made by @silima and @percy--jackass, both also on tumblr. for more of my own work, you can head to @jasiper on tumblr for more of my writing! thank you and i hope you enjoy!

“You need some help with that?”

The head hidden behind the monitor in front of the computer screen snaps up at the sound of the voice, for just a moment, looking like a deer in headlights. But the moment ends and those brown eyes twinkle like they always do when Jason sees them.

“Are you offering a hand?” Her voice is as soft as silk, smooth as honey, yet if needed, Jason knows she can spit out poison. He hopes she won’t do that.

Carefully swinging his legs inside the window, he shakes his head. “I was actually hoping you’d stop.”

She tilts her head at him, those wide brown eyes doing numbers on him. He can’t even tell what she looks like behind the black mask that covers most of her face, but her eyes alone are enough for him; his knees feel weak and he’s so glad his face is covered or else she’d see him become a blushing mess.

“No can do, Spider-Man,” she says, almost cheerfully. “I was actually just finishing up here.” She pulls what looks like a flash drive out of one of the computer ports and shoves it into the pocket of her black jumpsuit.

“C’mon, Enchantress.” Jason stands and takes a tentative step towards her. “This is the third time in two weeks.”

“And?” Her voice is less like silk and more like steel.

“I have to know what you’re doing here, you know that.” Usually Jason would try to alter his voice so people wouldn’t be clued in on his age, but judging on the way Enchantress carries herself, she can’t be much older than him. “Breaching sensitive information from a political organization has federal prison written all over it.” And Jason really, really doesn’t want to send her to prison for some reason. Maybe he likes this game of cat and mouse she’s devised over the past several weeks. Maybe he looks forward to seeing those brown eyes behind her mask. Maybe he’s a bad superhero.

Enchantress scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to know a single thing about me, Spider-Man. What is a flash drive going to tell me about one of the wealthiest organizations in the country that the public doesn’t already know?”

“Obviously something important if you have it on a flash drive,” Jason counters. “Please.” He holds out his hand, clad in red, and even though he’s dressed like Spider-Man, right now he’s just some guy begging some brown-eyed girl in a black jumpsuit to surrender. He can almost hear Leo calling him dense.

Something flickers in Enchantress’ eyes. Hesitation? Regret? Fear? Whatever it is, it’s holding her back from running away from him.

If Jason doesn’t try now, he’ll never be able to forgive himself if the flash drive ends up in the wrong hands.

He lifts up his hand and uses his web-shooter to attach her wrist to the wall directly behind her. She gasps in shock as she’s bound, wiggling her arm in an attempt to free herself even though they both know she isn’t strong enough to do so. Jason’s perfected his web-shooters so even he struggles to break free of them, heightened strength and all.

Enchantress glares at him, brown eyes blazing. “You’re really going to regret that,” she says, voice hardened. No more silk or honey—she’s angry. _Oops._ She inhales and Jason’s too late to cover his ears with his hands before she demands, “ _Release me_.”

 _This_ is why she called herself Enchantress when he first encountered her: she can say something and he can’t disobey her orders. It sounds silly, but it’s like she’s a sorceress and her voice is the spell. He just does her bidding even though he really, really doesn’t want to.

Despite knowing he shouldn’t release her, despite knowing she’s the enemy—even though he doesn’t think she’s an enemy; there are people he fights that have more sinister motives than breaching confidential information from political organizations—his body moves forward against his will. He grits his teeth under his mask, grunting ever so slightly as he steps into her bubble. Her face is so close to his that he can feel her breath.

“ _Release me_ ,” she repeats, the harmonious lull of her voice pulling at him, looming over his head like a thunderstorm signaling upcoming rain.

Jason reaches up against his will and rips her hand free.

Enchantress rubs her wrist and she sighs. “Thanks, Spidey,” is her cheerful response. “I’ll probably see you in a few days? Of course, unless—”

He listened to her words, abided to her order, was hypnotized by her voice, but he’s under her spell no more. She can’t get away. Not again. He’s never had such a bad losing streak when it came to a specific enemy. He’s let her get away from him three times in two weeks alone. Sure, Jason’s a kid, definitely not on par with other, older superheroes, but he doesn’t let someone get away _four separate times._ He isn’t about to go down as New York’s lousiest superhero.

Before she can run for the staircase that leads to the roof, Jason does the rational thing any superhero would do—he tackles her.

His arms wrap tightly around the girl’s waist, hearing her cry out as the two of them collapse in a heap on the floor in between two cubicles. Jason can almost imagine interns scuttling around, helping draft legislations to turn into their representative or senator, advocating for whatever the hell this organization supports. But, currently, this building is not bustling with hopefuls dreaming of the day they make it to Washington, D.C.—instead, Jason’s arms are locked around Enchantress’ waist as she wriggles beneath him.

“Give me the flash drive!” Jason grunts as he successfully pins her against the floor. He feels like he’s almost violating her as his hand pats against her hip where the pocket of her jumpsuit is. There, he can feel the metal of the flash drive against her relatively soft side. He desperately tries to find the opening to the pocket.

“No!” Enchantress struggles against him. Her hand moves and in an instant, Jason’s hand is pinning her wrist down. His suit-clad fingers find the opening to her jumpsuit pocket and he attempts to make a grab for the flash drive until Enchantress yells, “Get _off_ me!”

Just like that, the silk and honey command is back. Jason’s hand freezes and he’s so close to grabbing the flash drive, but her voice is something that can’t be reckoned with. His powers can only do so much. Her voice… He’s useless. Utterly useless.

As he moves his hand away from her wrist unwillingly, Enchantress bends her legs from beneath him, her knees curled up to her chest. Before he can process what’s happening, her boots come into contact with his stomach, not only pushing him away from her but also knocking the breath out of him. He groans, unable to get air through his mask as he pathetically rolls from his side to his back, trying to get air. He can hear Enchantress scrambling to get away, her footsteps echoing towards the staircase, up the stairs, and, faintly, the heavy door with roof access swing open, meaning she got away. Again.

Jason manages to pull off his mask, finding it much easier to breathe with it gone. He groans, accepting defeat as he closes his eyes. He hates how he has to grapple with another loss. He’ll have to file _another_ police report and try to figure out what exactly this girl wants from some defenseless political organization.

Much too late, the earpiece in his ear comes to life as Leo asks, “What happened, man? I’m so sorry, the robotics meeting went late and I just got home and saw that you had the suit on and I’m—”

“Save it, Leo,” Jason mutters, sitting up slowly. “Call the police. Gotta file another report.”

Leo’s silent for a moment before asking quietly, “Was it—”

“Enchantress? Yep.” Jason pinches the bridge of his nose wearily. “She got away with another hard drive. It was a different computer this time, which means she’s definitely doing some digging.”

Jason can hear Leo typing rapidly at his computer. “Shit, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help. I could’ve had the police there ages ago if I’d been here,” Leo says, voice laced with guilt. “Next time, man. We’ll get her next time.”

“Next time, sure.” Jason knows there will be a next time; if she’s coming back and stealing information from different computers, four trips isn’t enough. The office has dozens, if not hundreds, of computers to steal information from.

Jason just isn’t too sure that he’ll be able to stop her.

* * *

“I don’t get it.” Leo leans against the locker next to Jason’s as Jason reaches for his calculus textbook. “You keep saying she can’t be much older than you.”

“Yep,” Jason confirms. “It’s impossible for her to be. I made a stupid reference to that one dumb meme you sent me a few months back… You know, the _I am once again asking for your financial support_ one. No one knows that meme unless they’re around our age. An adult won’t get it.”

“Exactly. What incentive does some Gen-Z kid have to steal confidential information from a political organization?” Leo demands. “A fucking _conservative_ organization, at that.”

Jason raises his eyebrows as he shoves the textbook into his backpack. “A conservative organization?” He must admit, he’s been slacking with his research—he just knows the building Enchantress constantly breaks into is a part of a massive business complex just across the river from where he lives. There are several organizations under one roof, all of them differing in party, focus, and legislation. “You looked into it?”

“Yep. The guy in charge worked on Bush’s campaign. Huge fossil fuel guy. Hangs up a rifle in his office. A complete asshole. Maybe she’s trying to find something fishy about them.”

“Maybe,” is Jason’s doubtful reply. He still can’t quite understand why she’d go to such great lengths to undercover a political organization’s secrets. With everything accessible online, there’s only so much an organization can keep in the dark without it leaking, the repercussions which would be too great in today’s political sphere. “I don’t know. What’s this organization even all about?”

As if he’s memorized the organization’s Wikipedia page, Leo says, “ _The Sovereign New York Republicans_ are as awful as they sound. Anti-big government, pro-war, too busy flashing their guns and trying to overturn _Roe v. Wade_ to do anything productive. Again, for one of the east coast’s biggest and powerful organizations, they don’t do much except funnel millions into the GOP and tweet their thoughts and prayers for each school shooting that occurs.”

The organization name sounds vaguely familiar. Jason tries hard not to pay attention to organizations that flash their guns and cry about the value of unborn life while not lifting a finger to combat poverty. Unfortunately for him, even in a blue state, they’re hard to ignore completely. Jason shakes his head and offers, “At least it’s not one advocating for actual change instead of just throwing a hissy fit about basic human rights.”

Leo stares at Jason for a moment, looking around before leaning in to hiss, “I don’t know what’s up with you, _Spider-Man_ , but she’s a headache that needs to go away. You told me that your job as a superhero to stop crime, and unless I’m mistaken, trespassing and a confidentiality breach are crimes. Why are you suddenly going against everything you stand for?”

“Something’s different about her,” Jason insists weakly. Leo rolls his eyes at that, so Jason says defensively, “Look, it’s a… gut feeling. I can’t explain it, but she isn’t like anyone else I’ve gone against.”

“Which is why you refuse to wear those sick earplugs I made for when you go against her?” Leo asks sourly. 

“I rely heavily on my sense of hearing,” Jason mutters. “I’m not about to go in with just my eyes. That’d be foolish of me. Plus, even without the hypnosis or whatever, she can actually handle hand-to-hand combat, like when she kicked me yesterday. Most people wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

Leo sighs heavily. “Okay, whatever, you’re right, you need your super hearing. I got it. But how is she different than that guy in Brooklyn who keeps stealing bikes from all over the neighborhood? You had no problems handing that dude over to the cops.”

Even thinking about it sounds stupid, so Jason hesitates before speaking. “She’s targeting the _same_ organization, Leo. Most people target different locations; usually on the hunt for _something,_ but they’re not gullible enough to attack twice. Not that she’s gullible, of course, because she’s smart. But something _has_ to be prompting her to go back. Something big. And if this right-wing organization is as bad as it sounds… I have to believe she has good intentions, right?”

“If she’s as old as you think she is, which is our age, that puts her in high school,” Leo points out. “Which means she’s underage and can’t vote.”

 _Shit._ Leo has a point and even Jason knows it. He sighs, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose before admitting, “Yeah, she might not be old enough to vote.”

“Why should she care, then?”

“Politics affects us, underage or not. Those idiots in the Senate are the reason why school shootings keep happening,” Jason points out.

Leo holds up his hands defensively, almost as if he’s surrendering. But he’s stubborn and Jason knows it’d take a whole lot more than just a gut feeling to change his mind. “Okay, you got me there. Still, you have to agree it doesn’t make sense. And the sooner you turn her into the police, the sooner you’ll find out what exactly she’s after. Conservative organization or not, she could cause a _lot_ of harm. Confidential information isn’t a light subject. You saw what happened with Watergate.”

“This isn’t Watergate because she’s not the sitting president.”

The first bell rings, signaling the final five minutes before first period. Lockers slam shut, making Jason wince as metal hits metal. The noise of shutting lockers was annoying before, but the enhanced hearing makes the sound so much worse. It’s only the second week of his junior year and after an entire summer devoid of slamming lockers, Jason still hasn’t gotten used to the sound again.

“Maybe,” Leo gives Jason a look of pity, “this is too big of a job for you to handle alone.”

“What?” Jason blanches and he almost can’t believe what Leo is saying. Ever since Leo discovered Jason’s secret seven months ago, he’s been more than supportive of all of Jason’s crazy endeavors, even if it’s a dangerous mission. When Enchantress first struck five weeks ago, Leo all but pushed Jason to pursue her. “Too big of a job? Do you not believe in me?”

Leo can hardly meet Jason’s eyes when he says, “Your head isn’t in it, Jason. You’re giving her the benefit of the doubt and you _never_ do that to your enemies. She’s gotten away from you _four times_ and you usually deal with enemies with one encounter. Maybe you should let the police take care of this—”

“I’m not giving up on this,” Jason interrupts stubbornly. “She’s not that much of a problem yet, if at all. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” It sounds like he’s lying through his teeth, even to himself.

“You _do_ have a problem, though, a problem you’re _not_ handling very well,” Leo argues. When Jason slams his locker shut, Leo says quietly, “It’s nothing personal. But you’re a superhero and if that information she steals gets into the wrong hands, people’s lives can be affected. Politics is a big, ugly game. You and I both know that.”

“I know,” Jason concedes. He almost feels like an imposter; if he can’t stop some girl with a pretty voice from sneaking away with flash drives full of information, what’s stopping her from evading the police as well? “Okay, fine. I’ll make you a deal. If she gets away from me one last time, I’ll let the NYPD handle it.”

Several moments pass. The hallway is almost empty now and Jason knows he’s going to be late to physics, but he doesn’t care. He needs to hear Leo’s reply.

“Fine, deal,” Leo sighs. “I hope you can stop her, I really do. But we’ll talk about this later.” Suddenly, Leo deflates, changing the subject with a groan, “We have a lab in chemistry today that I really don’t want to do. I have this new girl as my partner, Piper, or something, I don’t know, but she told me she’s not that great at chem, so I think we’re _both_ screwed.”

Jason’s only half listening, but he nods along as if he paid perfect attention. He’s already turning to jog to physics, although he’s almost positive his teacher won’t care if he’s late—being good at physics does have its perks sometimes. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll talk about this after school. See you at lunch!”

Even though he told Leo he’d wait until after school, when Jason sits down right as the late bell rings, the only thing he can think about is how he’ll stop Enchantress when he sees her next.

* * *

On the rare days where Jason doesn't have a mission to complete or an enemy to stop, he almost feels relieved. It gives Jason the time to pull out his laptop and catch up on his schoolwork, which had fallen to the bottom of the barrel, even though it’s only the second week of school. Junior year is already proving to be more of a challenge than he thought it would be, and it hasn’t even been a full month since the semester started.

But superheroes don’t have days off. Jason’s come to realize that after almost a year of this whole _fighting crime_ thing. Even when he doesn’t put on the suit, there’s always something he has to deal with.

Tonight is certainly no exception.

As Jason finally completes his physics assignments, he closes one textbook before moving to the next and opens up his calculus book. He isn’t really in the mindset to solve derivatives (then again, is he ever?) but he isn’t about to let his grades slip so early on into the semester. Objectively, keeping helpless citizens safe from threats is more important than calculus, but unless he decides to come forward with his secret, derivatives have to be the priority.

After he struggles through two problems, his bedroom door opens. He looks up to see Thalia leaning against the doorway, her focus on his messy desk. “Lots of homework tonight?” she asks.

“Always,” is Jason’s tired response.

“I told you that junior year is the worst,” Thalia reminds him. “I can’t even imagine how much it sucks for you. I didn’t take calculus or physics and it still kicked my ass.”

Even though she might be right and she didn’t pile on the AP classes in high school, Jason is sure her ass is being thoroughly kicked right now. Thalia works all day long at a restaurant and still somehow has the energy to attend night classes at the local community college. She manages to have her own life while also making sure Jason stays out of trouble.

Well, _mostly_ out of trouble, since she hasn’t figured out Jason’s big secret yet.

Sometimes Jason is tempted to tell his sister everything, but he doesn’t want to force the burden of his powers on anyone else. Leo’s already done more than enough by being Jason’s ‘guy in the chair’, something Jason would never have asked of him. Leo’s persistent enough, so Jason didn’t really have a choice. Thalia, however, already gave up so much to become Jason’s legal guardian—the stereotypes are true, superheroes _do_ have tragic backstories!—and he’s not about to spring the Spider-Man secret on her, too. She’s already working full time and attending school, he can’t be that selfish.

“Is everything okay?” Thalia asks worriedly. “You look out of it.” She looks ready to set down her backpack and sit down for a serious chat, something Jason doesn’t necessarily want to be involved in right now. The second she tries parenting is when he intervenes.

“Yeah, just exhausted.” It’s not a lie, Jason _is_ exhausted. “I just finished physics and I still have calculus and a little reading to do before bed. Like you said, junior year is the worst.”

Maybe Thalia hates parenting him as much as he hates it, or maybe he’s magically become a good liar. For whatever reason, Thalia hoists her backpack more securely over her shoulder and nods. “You should take a breather or you’ll burn yourself out.”

 _I’m already burnt out,_ Jason thinks miserably. Instead of saying that to worry his sister more, he just forces a grin and he says lightly, “I’ll try. Just let me finish calc, alright? Then I’ll take a break.”

Thalia finally looks convinced that he’s okay and he lets out an internal breath of relief. She leans forward, ruffles his hair, and kisses his forehead, neatly dodging his hand as he playfully tries to swat her. “You’re too hard on yourself. Okay, I need to go. Love you. Dinner’s on the stove when you’re hungry. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Love you!” Jason calls after her. She leaves his door open, not that he minds since he’s alone now. He hears the front door shut behind her, trying to focus on the equations on the page in front of him instead of the sound of her jangling keys and the sound of her footsteps walking away.

Jason used to be good at concentrating on his homework. The past few months, it’s been hard to get in the zone, and it’s not just because of his heightened senses anymore. Sure, it’s hard to ignore everything he picks up on—the drone of the TV in the next apartment, the shrill ringing of the entrance bell of the convenience store across the street, the first drops of rain that hit the asphalt outside—but it’s almost background noise to him now. He’s getting better at tuning out the rest of the world.

Right now, his thoughts are louder than the world around him.

His mind wanders to the conversation he had with Leo after school. It hadn’t been a very productive talk; Leo was still pushing for Jason to trust the police with Enchantress while Jason insisted again that he didn’t want to give up quite yet. While he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, Jason knows Leo is right—how many more times can she defeat him? How many more times can she get away? The losses are embarrassing at this point. Any sane person in his shoes would give up.

Maybe this is a sign that Jason isn’t sane. If it was anyone else, he would give up. He would surrender and let the police handle it.

Despite everything, Jason and Leo came to the agreement that Jason had one more chance. If Jason couldn’t stop Enchantress one last time, he would give up and let the NYPD figure it out.

 _One more chance._ Jason can’t screw up again. He can’t let her slip through his fingertips another time.

Instead of using his laptop to search up Khan Academy videos, he finds himself on the website for the conservative organization Enchantress keeps stealing information from. _The Sovereign New York Republicans._ What a bullshit name for a bullshit organization. He scrolls through their policy page, hoping to find something that will make everything click. Maybe he’ll stumble upon something and the lightbulb will light up over his head. Every superhero movie has an epiphany scene and Jason really hopes his is coming soon.

After several minutes of reading right-wing propaganda that makes Jason want to claw his eyes out, he’s met with dread. He might be a superhero but this isn’t a superhero movie. There isn’t going to be a big epiphany. He won’t dig anything up because he doesn’t _know_ Enchantress. He doesn’t know what she’s searching for and even if he did, he doubts he’ll be able to stop her from finding it. The only thing he knows about her is that she has the voice as dangerous as a siren and eyes that burn directly into his soul, neither of which will help his cause.

Superhero movies have epiphany scenes, but they also have surrender scenes. Is this Jason’s surrender? Will he admit that he’s in over his head? His eyes flicker to his phone and for a moment, he contemplates calling Leo and giving in to the pressure of doing the right thing and letting the police handle it. There’s no shame in admitting an enemy is too difficult to handle, right? He’s only sixteen and still fairly new at being a superhero. It was only a matter of time before he faced someone he couldn’t defeat.

As his hand closes around his phone, the hair on his arms stand up.

For a moment, he isn’t sure why his spidey senses are suddenly going crazy. He glances at his window and the fire escape is empty. No one is in the apartment—he’d be able to hear their breathing and heartbeat if that was the case. So why is he on edge?

Other than the pouring rain, he hears heavy footsteps approaching his front door. He knows the person is coming to his door because the apartment is the last one hallway, nestled in the corner. Rarely anyone comes close to his front door and he knows Thalia’s footsteps well enough to know this isn’t Thalia.

As Jason stands, he pauses and contemplates putting on his suit. He looks towards his closet and in an instant decides against it. Best case scenario this is a lost civilian needing help and he really doesn’t need to reveal to a complete stranger that Spider-Man lives here. The news would leak to the general public and he’s trying to keep the secret to himself (and Leo) for just a little longer.

Going without his suit might be a huge mistake, but Jason takes that gamble because the footsteps continue to get closer to him. It’s hard to hear over the heavy rain but it sounds like one foot is dragging as they continue closer to the front door.

As he makes his way into the living room, the stranger knocks on the door, a quiet three raps before nothing. Jason hesitates before grabbing the doorknob, allowing his heightened senses to drink in the situation before he opens the door.

Whoever is behind the door is breathing heavy—broken, ragged gasps that sound labored. He can hear their heartbeat, frantic and too fast. This person either just experienced extraneous physical activity or is in the midst of the panic attack or both.

The most unsettling thing that Jason’s heightened senses picks up on is the metallic smell that floods his nose. Metallic. Blood. They’re bleeding.

The smell of blood is what makes Jason wrench open the door. Even before the light from his apartment floods the silhouette standing in his doorway, his night vision takes in the sight of the stranger.

Through the pouring rain, Jason can see a ripped jumpsuit, soaking wet dark hair, and blood. As he’s gaping, the person’s head tilts up and when they make eye contact, the familiarity of the brown eyes hits Jason like a train.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” is her weak croak.

Despite his shock, Jason manages to ask, “Enchantress? What? How are you here? How did you _find_ me?”

Even in tatters, there is no doubt that this girl on his doorstep is Enchantress. She looks more like a wet kitten than anything—teeth chattering from the cold, bloodshot eyes, blood dripping down her chin from a cut on her bottom lip. He’s never seen her so unsteady, so uncertain. He’s never seen her so helpless.

Once the initial shock wears off, panic sets in. He realizes that by saying her name, he’s ultimately given away his identity. She’s never seen him without a mask on. He almost wants to slam the door in her face but she’s obviously hurt. He hesitates, heart pounding in his throat, unsure of what to do. He’s imagined facing Enchantress again about a thousand times in the past few hours alone but none of the scenarios he made up had him without his suit. He feels defenseless, almost naked.

“Please…” Enchantress winces and Jason sees that her arm is wrapped around her torso, holding her ribs. “I-I’m hurt, and I knew I couldn’t make it home. Please don’t call the cops. Please. I need help.”

Jason _should_ slam the door in her face. Any sane superhero would do that at the sight of a villain. She’s supposedly his enemy, he can’t possibly help her. He’s been pursuing her for weeks and she’s done nothing but break laws and cause him headaches. There’s an unwritten rule that clearly states you don’t help your enemy because it might as well be a trap.

But her brown eyes are full of tears behind her ripped mask and Jason’s chest physically aches. This can’t be a trap. She’s bloody and her jumpsuit is ripped to expose several cuts scattered along her limbs, a deep gash on her thigh. He swallows back the shock and the fear and the panic and he nods, opening his door a little wider, pushing aside his hesitation.

As he lets his guard down, Enchantress goes down—literally. Her knees buckle and she collapses. Jason is thankful for his spidey reflexes as he surges forward, catching her before she crumples to the ground. She’s trembling and soaked as he wraps his arms around her, her arms feebly wrapping around him. He all but drags her inside, kicking the door shut behind him. The rainwater drips off her body and he hopes her blood isn’t running off her body like the water is. He can explain a wet carpet to Thalia but he isn’t sure what lie he can conjure for bloodstains.

“Come on,” Jason murmurs as he slides one arm under her knees, carefully lifting her up. Her head rests heavy against his chest and he can feel her frantic heartbeat as he cradles her against his chest. He feels like he’s sleepwalking as he makes his way out of the living room and back into his bedroom, dropping her on the edge of his bed. He’ll have to change his sheets later but he doesn’t care. He stares down at his enemy, reduced to nothing but wet hair and a ripped jumpsuit and he pities her even though he knows he shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Enchantress whispers. One of her hands is pressed to the cut in her thigh and the other is still wrapped around her torso. She winces slightly when she repeats, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

She’s still bleeding and won’t stop bleeding unless Jason does something. Even if this was a trick—which it isn’t—she’s in no position to fight him. If she makes a move, he’ll have her trapped inside a web against his web. He sighs, a million questions running through his mind before he says, “You need to get out of that jumpsuit. You could, uh,” Jason forces the drawer of his dresser to open, fumbling through his clothes before pulling out a big t-shirt and an old pair of basketball shorts, “wear this. I’ll go grab the first aid kit and an ice pack.”

It’s a perfect opportunity for her to leave or to strike him while his back is turned. But even as he goes into the bathroom and grabs the first aid kit under the sink, he can still hear her heavy breathing from his bedroom. The last shred of doubt he desperately clung to slips through his fingertips. Even when he walks to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the freezer, his heightened hearing doesn’t hear any signs of an attempted escape. His bed would creak if she was trying to run away and his bed stays silent.

He makes his way back down the hallway. He knocks on his door, a lump coming to his throat for no apparent reason when he asks hoarsely, “Are you, um, presentable?”

“Yeah,” is her soft, pained reply. “You can come in.”

Jason pushes open the door to his bedroom. His attention should be drawn to her bloody thigh and how deep the cut is, or her ripped jumpsuit a heap on his floor, but he hardly even notices those things. The thing he does notice first makes the hair on his arms stand up again, not that he’s in danger.

Enchantress isn’t wearing her mask. He can see her face completely for the first time.

Her face is much rounder than he expected it to be. Sure, he knew she was around his age the whole time (she had an understanding of memes that could no way exist in an older generation) but without her mask, she looks a lot less like some sorceress and a lot more like a kid. She’s a teenager, just like he is. Somehow they both ended up in the crazy world of superheroes when they should be busy worrying about chemistry or the SAT or something. Jason wonders how she ended up on the wrong side of the fight.

“What?” Enchantress asks tiredly. “Not what you expected?”

“I’m sure you can say the same thing,” is Jason’s reply as he stops staring like an idiot and closes the distance between them. As he walks to the foot of his bed, he pulls his desk chair after him, pulling it up in front of her and sitting down. He hands her the ice pack, which she immediately holds to her ribs, opening the first aid kit in his lap. As he grabs the gauze, he says gently, “I… have a lot of questions.”

“I figured that much,” Enchantress says, “which is why I almost didn’t come here. But I couldn’t go home like this and I, um, really don’t have friends.”

Jason gets a gauze bandage ready for the cut on her thigh. He grabs a dry wipe from the first aid kit, reaching for his water bottle to wet it. “Let’s start easy,” he suggests as he wets the wipe. “What’s your name? Your _real_ name and not your… incognito name.”

As he carefully dabs the wet wipe against her thigh to clean the cut, she lets out a long sigh. He isn’t sure if it’s out of pain or hesitation but after a few moments, she quietly replies with, “Piper. Piper McLean.”

The name sounds vaguely familiar. Very vaguely, though. Jason continues to clean out her cut before asking, “How did you find out who I am? And where I live?”

Piper is watching his every movement carefully and Jason realizes she’s probably as nervous as he is—he’s on the other side, too. For all she knows, he’ll have her pinned down on the floor again. It takes her several moments to say, “I go to your school. Not that I expect you to recognize me, of course. It’s a big school and I’m new but you’re not exactly hard to miss. For one, you’re in my English class.”

Jason meets her eyes and he can tell she isn’t lying. “You are?” he demands as he narrows his eyes. “No, I’d recognize you.”

“I sit in the very back and the only word I’ve said in class is ‘here’ when Mr. Rodriguez takes attendance,” Piper informs him. “I also wear reading glasses in class. It’s not like I roll up to school every day in a mask, just like you don’t wear your spidey suit.”

“I mean, you did recognize me enough to figure out my identity,” Jason points out.

“I recognized the voice. I hear you talk about _Hamlet_ for an hour every day, it’s hard for me not to make the connection when I’m fighting you at night.” Piper winces as he presses the bandage to her cut. “My chem lab partner is also your friend.”

“Leo?”

Piper rolls her eyes. “Yep. Him. He always says how he should’ve taken physics with you or something. I don’t blame him, I suck at chem. Not that he’s any better, of course.”

Okay, so the school thing definitely isn’t a lie. She already correctly identified their English teacher, what book they were currently reading, his best friend, and that he takes physics. He makes a mental note to pay more attention in English tomorrow.

But he still isn’t done; he has a trillion more questions for her. He asks, “How did you find out where I live?”

“I’ve known for a week now,” Piper admits as he secures the bandage around her thigh. When she tilts her head to examine his medic work, her wet hair brushes against his arm. “I figured out who you were under the mask and then had a feeling it might be handy to have your address just in case. I asked Leo. Well, not _asked_ exactly, but I used my… you know.”

“Yeah. Powers.” Jason moves to a cut on her forearm, carefully repeating the process of rinsing out the cut with a wet wipe. “Which, by the way, how did that happen?”

“I was born with it,” Piper answers easily. “When I was a kid, I got anything I ever asked for. People just… did what I wanted. I could ask for the most ridiculous things and people would _rush_ to do it for me. My dad just thought I was spoiled and acting out because of the family dynamic. So the next time I saw my mom, I asked her about it, and she laughed. My own mom _laughed_ at me because I was panicking about being a witch or something.” She lapses into silence for a moment and Jason stops bandaging up her forearm to look at her. When she finally does speak, her voice is a lot softer than it previously was. “My mom calls it a gift. She has it, her mom has it, her mom had it… She never told my dad, of course, which is why I didn’t know about it. It’s hard to manage because I see my mom, like, twice a year at most. Sometimes I don’t know what my real voice is.”

Jason can sense the suppressed anger in her calm voice. Coming from someone with unwanted powers, he understands the anger. All he can offer is a gentle, “I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes it’s cool,” Piper concedes. “Like when I got pulled over for speeding the day I got my license and I made the officer let me go without ticketing me. And hey, sometimes it has its perks. My mom calls it charmspeak. When I trigger it, it also makes me physically stronger.”

“That’s why you could kick me off of you.”

Piper nods. “It’s like an all-over adrenaline rush. If not for charmspeak, I’d never hold my ground against you.”

Jason wants to disagree but he doesn’t. He stays silent and he digs through the first aid kit for more bandages.

“What about you?” Piper asks quietly. “How did you get all… buggy?”

Unable to curb his smile, Jason’s lip curls up. “Buggy? Really?”

“You’re the one who called yourself Spider-Man,” Piper says defensively. “I could say you’re arachne-y, but it doesn’t sound as good as buggy does.”

Jason lets himself laugh quietly before he meets her eyes again. He glances away—her eyes are somehow even more captivating without her mask—and forces himself to continue to tend to her wounds as he starts, “I got an internship at a lab last year. I was interested in the physics aspect, but the researchers had me doing a little bit of everything. A little bit of biology, a little bit of chem, you know, the basics. A lot of their work was in the beginning stages so it was a hit or miss, more or less.” He sighs and he can feel Piper’s gaze on him, almost deterring him from the rest of his story. “One day, I had to collect the webs from the spider lab.”

“The spider lab,” Piper repeats. “An actual _spider_ did this to you?”

Jason nods as he presses a wet wipe to a cut on the back of her hand. “Genetically modified spiders. They were doing research into heightening humans’ senses like a spider’s. Anyway, I went to go collect the web specimen. I was dumb and didn’t wear gloves like they told me to, and one of the spiders climbed on my hand and bit me. When I woke up the next morning, I felt like I was in an echo chamber or something. I heard _everything._ All of my senses were heightened. I was fine with that, but then my comb got stuck to my hand.” He lets out a short laugh at the memory. “I thought I was tripping on some hallucinogens when I scaled the wall. Long story short, I quit the lab that afternoon. I didn’t tell them anything because, well, I didn’t want to be like the spiders in the lab.”

“You didn’t want to be a lab rat,” Piper murmurs. “I understand. Other than my mom… you’re the first one to know about the sorceress thing. I didn’t want people poking me with needles.”

“The government is also pretty weird about superheroes,” Jason points out. “I didn’t need them to try to force me into being one, you know? I wanted to do it on my own terms. I wanted to keep my identity a secret. It’s worked pretty well, kind of. Only you and Leo know.”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t tell Leo, either,” Piper jokes. “You’re not great at changing your voice.”

“Hey, my sister hasn’t found out yet!” Jason defends himself. When she laughs, his chest feels really warm. He shakes it off when her laughing abruptly stops because she winces. “Okay. You got my story. I think you know what I’m about to ask.”

Piper looks away. “I know,” is her hushed response.

“Why?” Jason asks softly. “Trespassing is illegal. Trespassing into a political organization’s building is _super_ illegal. Taking hard drives of their information is somehow even more illegal than both previous crimes combined. I-I want to think you’re a good person. You’re _acting_ like a good person. Why are you doing this? I’m a good guy and if you break the law, I have to stop you.” _I shouldn’t be taking care of you, either,_ he thinks after he finishes speaking.

With a defeated sigh followed by a wince due to her aching ribs, Piper finally meets his eyes again. “People going after my dad,” she says quietly. “And I have to stop them.”

“Your dad?” Jason tries to recall what she said about her dad and only remembers that he thought she was spoiled. “What does your dad have anything to do with stealing confidential information from a political group?”

“You don’t recognize the last name?” Piper asks, seemingly shocked. When Jason shakes his head, she takes a deep breath. “Wow. If this was a different situation, I might hug you. I’ve lived my entire life under my dad’s shadow. You’re the first person to not connect the dots.”

“Connect _what_ dots?”

“My dad’s Tristan’s McLean.”

Jason blinks and suddenly everything makes sense. “Tristan McLean? _You’re_ Tristan’s McLean’s daughter?”

“Yep. _The_ Tristan McLean.” Piper offers a weak, almost cynical smile. “The first Native American congressman in the House of Representatives. The representative of this district, so yeah, I’d hope you’d know him.”

“My sister _loves_ him. She votes for him every time he’s up for reelection. But,” Jason pauses, “isn’t he leaving the House?”

“Only because he’s running for Senate,” Piper explains. “But I’m sure you know that.”

Jason _does_ know that. The senior Senator of New York is retiring and it was a vicious primary season, Tristan McLean winning the Democratic primary with just a few thousand votes. Granted, New York is a blue state, so even the earliest projections of the election in two months shows him winning by a landslide over his Republican opponent.

While Jason is quite familiar with the politician, he doesn’t understand how his election has anything to do with Piper trespassing. “Wait. Back up. You said people are going after your dad. Who are these people and what do you mean by ‘going after’ him?”

“See, this is where I made educated guesses,” Piper says slowly.

“Educated _guesses_?” Jason demands. “You’re trespassing and have now gotten hurt over an educated guess?”

“Please just hear me out,” she begs. “Please, Jason. I’m so scared. I’ve never been this scared in my life and… I was so scared I came to you. You’re the only person who can stop me and throw me in jail and I’m so desperate for help that here I am. If you don’t believe me and think I’m just some, some… some spoiled _brat_ who just gets an adrenaline high for breaching sensitive political information, fine. Let me tell my story and if it’s not good enough for you, you can tie me up in your cobwebs and dump me in front of the nearest police station. But just listen to me. Please. I didn’t know where else to go.”

 _I didn’t know where else to go._ It’s the second time she’s said that and as Jason watches her big, brown eyes fill with tears, he realizes that she’s risking her freedom and identity to be here with him. She might have stumbled to his doorstep because she was hurt, but she’s shouldering a burden revolving around her dad, too. The least Jason can do is listen.

“Okay.” Jason uses another wet wipe to clean out a cut on her knee. “I’m listening.”

A heavy sigh escapes Piper’s lips and she whispers, “Thank you.” She clears her throat and he can’t help but to watch her face as she launches into her story. “The first threat happened in June, right after my dad won the primary. It was this small, bulky package. It didn’t have a return address and the ink was red. I remember my dad’s assistant opening it up and she immediately ran to call the police. My dad told me not to look, but if Mellie was scared enough to call the police, I felt like it was something I needed to see. I was right.” She pauses and Jason wonders if he hurt her as he continues to clean out her scrapes. But when he glances up, he sees her pursing her lips, almost as if the memory hurts to recall. “It was a package with a tacky Native American doll inside. It was totally racist, but that’s beside the point. The sender wrote my dad’s name on his chest and… the doll was decapitated. When Mellie opened the package, the head fell right off. There was an attached letter that said if my dad stayed in the race, he would die. The letter said something about how selfish it was to risk his life when he was all his daughter had.”

The hairs on Jason’s arm stand up, but he isn’t channeling his spidey senses. His blood seems to run cold at the mention of the doll and the letter. “Who sent that to him?”

“We don’t know,” Piper says quietly. “The police came and investigated but claimed there were no prints, no usable handwriting samples, no trace of the package even being sent through the postal service. The package just… appeared, so there were no suspects.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“I thought so, too. But the letters kept coming. They were all different, but it sent the same message; if my dad didn’t drop out of the race, he would be killed. Same handwriting, same red ink. But the police eventually stopped returning Mellie’s calls. They said it was a cold case even though it’s ongoing. My dad received a letter _last night_ and the NYPD claims they can’t do anything except assign more guards to protect us.”

Jason tries to wrap his head around all of this. “Okay, I understand that your dad is receiving threats. But how did you target the Republican group?”

“ _The Sovereign New York Republicans_ are directed by some asshole named Paul Richards,” Piper continues. “I hate him. He funds a bunch of oil pipelines that overtakes Native American land. My dad strongly opposed multiple pipelines in the House, so Richards constantly bashed him. Every bill my dad wrote or helped pass, Richards had something to say about it. I didn’t connect the dots until after the third letter when Fox News interviewed Richards to talk about it. He said that it was scary but that it was in my dad’s best interest to drop out of the race for his sake and mine. I thought that comment was low, even for him, so I did some investigating.”

“Investigating?” Jason repeats.

“It’s not difficult to find records of organization donations,” Piper says defensively. “It’s all public record. Anyway, the group is Republican, so they’re obviously funding my dad’s opponent. I didn’t think that was surprising. I saw that they donate a _lot_ of money to the NYPD. Again, I didn’t think anything of it because Blue Lives Matter or whatever racist bullshit conservatives say. But I saw that they made a massive donation to the NYPD the same night my dad received the first threat. I saw there were repeated donations from the organization, mostly under Richards’ name, and the dates matched up perfectly with my dad receiving death threats.”

Realization snaps into place and a lump forms in Jason’s throat. “He’s paying off the police. Richards is going after your dad.”

“My dad upset him the second he was sworn into the House,” Piper says bitterly. “I just didn’t think being Senator would do much else. Honestly, my dad would have better luck staying in the House since it’s a Democratic majority and the Senate is red, but if you’ve heard my dad talk, he’s all about serving his people. He thinks that by representing all of New York, he can better our lives while making the state proud. He wants to keep pushing for Native American rights and free healthcare and free upper education and to protect women’s rights and LGBTQ+ rights and… Richards is scared. So scared that he’s willing to _kill_ my dad. But my foolish, determined dad refuses to drop out of the race. He says that the second the threats target me, he’s done. But he’s willing to risk his life for the American people.”

Jason’s heart sinks in his chest. “Richards is paying off the NYPD to leave your dad vulnerable so _you_ are taking matters into your own hands.”

Piper nods miserably. “I thought I’d get lucky my first night and get all the information I need, but Richards’ office is locked. The security system would stop me before I got through the door. The general office is mainly unprotected, so I’ve been downloading data into hard drives. I hoped that some of the workers had been corresponding with Richards about my dad, but I was wrong. They’re all doing petty, unimportant work. Tonight, though, I got lucky. I disabled the security system and got in. But obviously the NYPD is working closely with them, because the second I got through the door—”

“They were waiting for you,” Jason sums up. He feels like he could be physically sick at the thought of people hounding up on Piper, who is mainly defenseless other than her voice.

“Not the police,” Piper clarifies. “Definitely some goonies Richards hired. I-I was extra careful this time and brought a blowgun and knife, but you can see how well I did. They gagged me so I couldn’t charmspeak. I somehow got lucky and managed to escape.”

A bad taste lingers in Jason’s mouth and he swallows it back. “They could have killed you. Piper, we need to go to the police and—”

“And then what?” Piper demands. “They won’t do _anything_ as long as Richards keeps funneling them money. They don’t care about the lives of people of color, especially the one of the man who promises to cut the NYPD’s budget if he’s elected to the Senate. All they care about is money for their fancy riot gear and guns.”

As much as he hates to admit it, she’s right. Jason sometimes works with the police and while sometimes they do help stop a criminal, he doesn’t feel comfortable with the way they execute the punishment. He says hollowly, “You don’t know if these threats are legitimate. It could just be a fear tactic.”

“Sure. That’s why they beat a teenage girl to a pulp,” Piper responds sarcastically. “I’m not going to risk my dad’s life. They can attack me all they want, but even hush money can’t stop the police forever. I just need undeniable proof that Richards is plotting to assassinate my dad. With that, I can make sure my dad is safe.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?” Jason wets another wipe and slowly raises it to the final cut on her lip.

When Piper speaks, her voice is muffled. “I… I’m also here to ask for your help.”

“What?” Jason blinks and almost drops the wipe he’s holding against her lip. “You want _me_ to trespass into a political organization, risk my life, commit several felonies to steal encrypted information, only to get real proof that Richards is the one after your dad?”

“Yes.” Piper’s eyes are so soft and sad when she whispers, “It’s my dad, Jason. I-I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t my dad. But he’s really all I have. I know you don’t believe in breaking laws, but sometimes doing what’s right isn’t aligned with the law. Sometimes it’s standing up against everything you thought you could trust. You might see me and think I’m your enemy, but you can’t look at me and tell me I’m a villain or evil. I’m a kid trying to save her dad. Please.”

And here it is—Jason’s superhero movie epiphany. There is no longer a line between him and Piper. They are standing on the same side, vowing to protect innocent life, a life who just simply wants to do good, versus corrupt people in power who would kill a man to continue oppressing the general public. Sometimes there isn’t a hero versus a villain—it’s the higher power versus underdogs, adults versus kids, morally good versus morally evil.

Here is the girl Jason vowed to defeat. He thought that to be a good superhero, he had to bring her to justice. Now he realizes justice is standing with her to save her father’s life.

Jason finally lowers the wipe from her bloody lip but his hand grabs her and he squeezes. Piper’s hopeful face morphs into one of astonishment and relieved surprise. Her face almost makes this whole _siding with the enemy_ thing worth it.

“I’m in. We’re going to take down these guys and save your dad.”


End file.
